


Control

by bubblyani



Category: American Psycho - All Media Types
Genre: Christian Bale - Freeform, F/M, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24323083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblyani/pseuds/bubblyani
Summary: Finally embracing the new ‘distraction’ in his life, Patrick Bateman slowly realizes your heavy influence in the one thing he relished the most: Control.Unofficial Sequel to One Shot "Distraction"
Relationships: Patrick Bateman/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Control

Sipping the wine with such frequency, you were not aware of its strength, for there was a stronger effect that had washed over you. And the person sitting across from you, the person you kept staring at made it worse.

Especially when that person was Patrick Bateman.

Dating Patrick Bateman proved to be an obsessive escapade. Drenched in the classic boy-next door look, Type A personality, and his insatiable sex drive, he certainly proved to be quite colorful. Every moment spent with him was scintillating. Be it wining and dining, conversation, or just stimulating intercourse.

“Welcome to Dorsia! May I take your order?”

Breathless, you watched him move his lips so eloquently as he made the order. Truthfully, you ought to be jumping in joy. Finally getting a reservation at a place as grand as this. But that strong effect, it still occupied your thoughts the entire time instead. Everything he did, he did it with perfection. The way he carefully placed the napkin over his lap, the way he sipped his whiskey, the way he chewed the pieces of his bloody steak. Nothing seemed out of order. But the fact your opinion was formed as such had one and only conclusion. And tonight, after 3 whole months, it was confirmed to you more than ever. You were in love with him.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

Given the number of times you took sips of wine, Patrick finally seemed to sense an abnormality in you. But you smiled, smacking your red lips as you nodded with assurance.

“Just feeling so thirsty today…” you said, “…and this wine is _exquisite_ …” you stressed whilst holding the glass. Patrick chuckled softly. “Well… _that_ is a fine Chardonnay you are drinking” he pointed out with pride. To which your smile turned mischievous. 

“All thanks to the great choice of Mr.Patrick Bateman” You replied, your voice filled with admiration. Keeping the eye line in place, the two glasses clinked to toast the grand occasion that was celebrated. The fine taste of the wine finally came to your attention. This frustrated you. Even his taste in alcoholic beverages were perfect. You felt like you could fall in love even deeper.

In your past romantic relationships, you were had been nothing but fiercely loyal. They only ended based purely on your decision. But this time, you knew you will not have the strength for you were in the palm of this man’s hand. For regardless of what you have seen in him, regardless of what he had shown himself to you, your heart had decided to choose him above all others.

As a hot blooded woman, you were drawn to his obvious qualities like his undeniable good looks, financial status, and his non obvious qualities such as his intellect, music taste and his underrated opinions on the people surrounding him in the circle of ‘acquaintances and friends’. Yet, there you were, hopelessly in love with him. He may not be the best man in the moral high ground, but neither were you. So who were you to judge? And now, for the first time in your relationship, you were nervous. You were worried.

It was quite plain to see that Patrick Bateman was not exactly the pure definition of a romantic partner. Intellectually, he was a blast. Sexually, he was addictive like a drug. But romantically? Did he ever thought of you that way? What exactly were you to him? Was he ever intending to be serious about you? Or will this relationship fade away eventually? Like drawings on the wet sandy beach, that would be washed off by the foamy waves of the sea?

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“So…” You heard Patrick begin, “You’ve been watching anything interesting lately?” Discussion of the topics in media, it was one of those activities you both considered as favorites. For it always morphed into a conversation deemed interesting.

“Unfortunately, no. I’ve been a bit busy” You replied, pressing your lips together as the Maitre d handed the Bill folder back to Patrick along with his credit card. Yes, you were busy. Busy filling all your thoughts with him. Finding oneself daydreaming about him and a possible future together. And later realizing that your behaviour seemed more immature than of a hopeless teenager, proceeding to fill yourself with remorse afterwards. And reliving that cycle, again and again. So, in layman’s terms, you were busy, in hell.

“Well…” he said, getting up, “I came across a very _interesting_ video…” he added, grabbing your mink fur coat from the waiter’s hands. “Uh huh?” You were curious as you stood up. He nodded, coming over to you. “What was it about?” You asked, when he gently put the coat over your shoulders. “A Heart Transplant. And it really fascinated me”

Looking at him, you raised at your eyebrows with surprise. Now this, this incited interest.

Once in a while, topics of the unnatural and unorthodox would linger in Patrick’s lips, reaching over to your ears. Topics of the kind that would make his Wall Street mates glare at him with confusion. But for you, your brain always seemed to be empathetic. Even with Patrick.

“If you were to justify that as a something worth of interest…” he began, “How would you do it?” From the way he looked back at you. From the way you both still did not leave the table, it was quite evident that he ached for a response. Holding his hand that he offered, you walked alongside him, past the other tables at the restaurant, amidst the glances of other customers. You slowly let your eyes wander ahead to ponder. He always challenged you intellectually. Thus, you were always on your feet. And with this certain topic, you were not shocked nor disgusted to the slightest. Instead, you took a deep breath:

“Well …firstly…I wouldn’t be surprised” “Why?”“Why? Well…I believe it fascinated you because it gave you a sense of peace watching it” you said, turning to him, “The act of handling human organs in that manner, to go on that rope of risk, all cause you have this sense of power and control over someone else’s body?” You paused, “I’d be surprised if no one finds this interesting at all”

Truthfully, you were so impressed at how those words rolled out your lips with such efficiency. Like a spell, it just exited. With his eye still on you, Patrick smiled subtly.

Reaching the exit, he put his hand up to signal a cab.

“You know…”he began, “You’re the first to respond this way” “Really?” You sounded unconvinced. He nodded. “Really…” he insisted, his eyes still on the taxi that pulled over. Your exhaling breath was quite visible to the outside chill. Clinging into the warmth of your coat, you were glad when he opened the car door. “You’re right…” Patrick said, “Something about control…” he chuckled pausing, “There’s something so… _attractive_ about that” “Some would even say _arousing_ …”

With your hand on the roof and looking right at him, you found yourself respond. His smile vanished. You were surprised as he shot you a blank yet serious look.

“Yes…exactly…” He murmured, watching you get in to the car. Regardless of your own suppressed feelings, it was a wonderful evening. But with those feelings, you seemed to be blind to his serious expression he wore all the sudden.

“Where to?” The driver asked. “American Gardens Building…” Patrick answered before you even could. Smiling to yourself, you looked through the window. The perks of being your boyfriend’s neighbor, blessing oneself with more time to spend together on the way home. As the vehicle began to move, you crossed your legs. But with the sudden jerk of the car, the high heel shoe went flying from your left foot over to Patrick’s side. Before he could even notice, you quickly bent down.

“Oops…” you chuckled nervously , “…lemme just get that oh!-” Your hand was nowhere near the shoe, nor your foot.

Not when Patrick grabbed it before you could.

Looking up, you were genuinely confused. His grip was tight, and his stare was icy. You wanted to take in a deep breath before you could even question his actions. But your intentions seemed slow in comparison, especially when he pulled you by your leg in a flash, lunging forward simultaneously, as he attacked you with a rough kiss. Reciprocating with enthusiasm, you felt the alcohol in your system drain off with his lips. “Patrick…” you gasped, “What’s going- Ah!”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With my hungry lips latching onto her bare neck, I took my sweet, sweet time with my kisses over every inch. I was quite generous with my share of kisses; Kisses with precision, sloppy and inhibited ones, the kisses that longed to suck on the most sensitive spots on the neck which included behind the ear. Regardless, I was on fire. My enthusiasm here could only be compared to my own rooted love for the music I considered to be my favorites, which would lead me to ramble on and on about them. Here, instead of rambling, I kissed, mindlessly. My sharp nose brushed against her soft jawline while my hand slowly moved up her toned leg, pushing the mink coat away to tightly cup her buttocks.

All this in the back of the taxi? This reckless in public? How on earth could I, Patrick Bateman, do this?

I have had relationships before. Including some people in my recent past, Evelyn Richards or Courtney Lawrence, for example. It was all good on paper, or to my reputation. But none of that seemed as significant as the relationship I had built with her. She certainly was a ‘distraction’ I had to deal with. But it grew to be a vital one. And even something more.

The more days, hours, minutes and even seconds I spent in her company, the more at risk I was to experiencing something so foreign. This strange feeling, that spawned within me. It tingled from time to time. A sensation I found so difficult to describe.

The first time I was smothered with this, it was at a nightclub not so long ago. With all the temptation of the world handed on a silver platter, I found it unfathomable how she chose to still cling on to me throughout the night. How she chose not to dance with the other men, nor even pretend to laugh at their superficial humor. Pressing herself against me, I watched her throw her head back, swaying to the music that was played. I never felt so certain of the notion of a companion until then. She was the epitome of loyal.

“Sure, the music here is nice…” she yelled through the noise, “But I’d rather sell my soul to listen to your music collection on loop instead” she added with a giggle.

So simple. Yet, all the sudden, I sensed a change. That strange sensation, building inside me like a storm. I did not smile, but gazed at her with disbelief. And instead of deciding to head back, I dragged her through the dancing crowd. If one followed our way, they would certainly assume Patrick Bateman was in the mood for hit of cocaine. But instead of snorting the white powder, I slung her inside the stall just to snort her, which could only be done by kissing her with enough passion, that our starving selves would proceed to have sex with discretion, amidst the cries and complaints of the other coke heads waiting impatiently outside. As much as the sex was completely exhilarating, it was merely an excuse to escape, to devoid oneself of that sensation that frightened me.

And once again, here I was, finding myself facing that sensation at dinner tonight. Her unabashed answer, the genuine respect she possessed in my morbid of a fascination, not even batting an eyelid whilst bringing in confidence and sensuality in the necessary tones. It certainly intensified that strange sensation. I wanted to counteract that, and I did. But I also wanted nothing more than to feast on her delicious neck with a billion kisses, drowning in her whimpers and moans.

What was wrong with me? This was unlike my own self. It seemed obvious that she was not just a distraction anymore. It was evident that she was a sheer obstruction.

A sheer obstruction to my sense of control.

And that obstruction had to be avoided.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_**(Few minutes later)** _

You heart caught its breath, after what felt like a rollercoaster ride. But it was not the fun kind at all.

You leaned against the elevator wall, watching him stand by the button panel. Silence was in such abundance, you were on the verge of suffocating. What was wrong with him?

The way Patrick passionately surprised you with his intense kisses in the taxi, it was not foolish of you to have assumed the night would end spectacularly, waking up in his bed the next morning. But the moment the vehicle halted at the destination, you felt him peel himself off your frame like a bandaid.

That icy stare had grown colder, with furrowed eyebrows as an addition. You sensed disgust, you sensed avoidance in his eyes. Fixing his hair upon his reflection in the window, he stepped out of the car with no acknowledgment. And that silence was maintained in the elevator you both shared at present. Though your neck felt numb with all the attention he poured earlier, you were worried beyond all measure. Elevators provided nothing but fond memories for the both of you. It either witnessed ecstatic conversation, laughter or the steamier, lewd acts of lust pinned against the walls. Never awkward silences.

Insecurities from earlier returned back to you. Was this it? Was this the end of this relationship? Were you not exciting to him anymore? You did not dare question anything now. For all could be discussed at a calmer, rational time.

“Patrick…” you mumbled, for you could not help it, “Is everything alright?” You inquired, staring at his reflection on the door colored door, “Are you okay?” His expression remained blank, and he certainly had no intention of speaking any time soon. Ding! With the elevator door finally opening, you watched his mouth open, causing you excitement.

“Goodnight…” So cold, it escaped his lips so chillingly, as he exited. You were speechless, forcing you to slowly get out to see him vanish into his apartment already. 

Closing the apartment door behind you, empty was all that you could feel. Never had he spoken or treated you this way before. But then again, never had there been an awkward moment as such either. Was it even wrong for you to have any expectations for this man?

You tossed your coat away mindlessly, pacing around the living room in your black strapped knee length dress that hugged your frame tightly. You relived every second of tonight in a flash, deciphering every word, every action, for you were desperate to find answers. He seemed happy at dinner. But all changed in the taxi. Was it your responsibility to stop him from engaging in anything publicly physical, when you knew it was against his ideals? Your temples tightened, your airways felt congested. Heading over to the bedroom, your hands frantically reached for the back of your dress to unzip it.

Until you heard pounding on the door. Heavy pounding kept repeating that eventually frightened you. Unaware the fact your dress was halfway unzipped, you headed over, opening the door in a dramatic fashion. You gasped.

It was Patrick. Except he seemed so different. Sweat glistening in his face, his hair was a mess. Panting heavily, he stood there with his shirt pulled up, tie loosened sans jacket. Distressed was never a look he wore in front of you. Until tonight.

“You asked me…” he began in a guttural tone, “… if everything was alright…” he said, looking right at you, “Whether I was _okay_ …” he stressed, gritting his teeth, “Well…I’m not…”

Clutching your chest, you kept quiet for he continued: “I’m not okay…” he breathed heavily, “I think…I’m going insane”

Desperation was rife in his tone, yet you did not panic. But you were concerned more than ever. Never had you been this concerned for him. Nor had you been so concerned for anyone else, ever.

“What do you need?” Uttering softly, that was all you could inquire with your body and soul.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Futile. That attempt seemed so futile I could laugh.

A mere few minutes apart from her tempting grasp, a mere few minutes avoidance, it seemed sufficient for me to finally come to terms of the storm that brewed within me.

Control? I was ready to relinquish it all. For that sensation which deemed strange, it finally was clear as day.

Transparent even as I grabbed her tightly by the waist, only to slam the door shut behind me.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Like a drunkard infatuated with alcohol, you were certain you were infatuated with Patrick Bateman’s lips. Depending on his feeling, those lips would take yours by the hand and lead you on a journey filled with such an adrenaline rush. Even when the journey felt strained, the after effects made it all worth it. For you felt reborn. You felt explored to the smallest detail. All that in the form of his intoxicating kisses. All that while he moved inside of you.

_“What do you need?”_

It seemed he need not provide you a verbal answer, when he grabbed you to kiss you in hunger instead. You were quick to react, jumping onto him to wrap your legs around his sturdy frame as he carried you to the bedroom.

With his trousers and underwear bunched around his ankles, it was evident he was impatient. Impatient more than usual, for he only had time to flick your thin layer of panties off you before heading straight to business. The straps of your black dress remained hanging over your exposed shoulders as you moved underneath him in bed. This probably was the sloppiest the both of you had ever been sexually. The second most sloppy would be that one fateful day you teased him with your bustier at his office. You relished that memory with fondness, for it was exciting, it felt like a game.

But tonight, it was certainly different.

Why exactly? You dared not to question. And it was better not to, not while he was in this rarely intense mood. Besides, nothing was in your focus when you were offered this much pleasure. The pleasure of being pounded, pummeled repeatedly in your sweet spot. At this moment you were more than happy to be wanted by him instead of ignored.

As he broke the kiss, you heard yourself groan. For it seemed as if someone stole your breath, or your source of nutrition, or even your sheer will to keep living. Curse his addictive lips. Pressing his forehead against yours, he made sure your hands were securely kept over your head. With his sweat infused with your own, you longed to taste it. “I have a question for you…” he dared to ask breathlessly, “If anyone were given complete control…” he continued mid thrust, “…do you think they would relinquish it so easily?” “Of course they won’t” you replied instantly, suppressing the urge to moan.

It was quite unclear as to why he would inquire about this so randomly, in bed. Your flow of thinking nor your intellectual sensitivity may not exactly be the sharpest when you were sprawled in bed, tortured by the sight of him finally taking his shirt off, with him still inside you. Your hands were greedy to run them over his torso. But you were overpowered , as he pinned your hands down right back in their previous post. Finally fully naked, his looks were akin to a tanned greek god.

“Well…Would you?” He inquired hoarsely, “Would you relinquish it?” “It would depend…on the context-oh my god!” Louder cries erupted from you when he thrust harder. Bending his head, you whimpered when you felt his teeth sink into your neck for a quick hickey. “What if I told you it was all yours?” Patrick purred into your neck, moving to look at you,“What if you had complete control…over me?” “Huh??” “Ride me…” He breathed so fast. Your eyes widened with confusion. “What? Patrick I don’t underst-” You were suddenly cut off with his sloppy kiss, keeping you distracted long enough to flip the both of you over, resulting with you on top, straddling him securely. Breaking away from his lips, you held yourself by resting your hands on his toned stomach. Patrick chuckled seductively. 

“Look at you…” he marveled, as he lay on the bed,“Why the fuck didn’t I do this sooner?” Blushing by his comment, you felt unfamiliar with this view. To have Patrick underneath you this way was certainly new.

“Do it…” He commanded, cupping your buttocks, “…show me how _arousing_ it is to _be...in...control_ ” he added, allowing the same hands to slowly hike your dress up, leaving your legs exposed.

It was unclear whether there was anything certain in your relationship after tonight. Perhaps this was just your paranoia being dramatic as expected. Yet when an opportunity such as this was presented to you, it would be foolish to refuse. You adored him to death, so there was nothing you would not try. You breathed in deeply, to feel boldness pass through your lungs.

Pulling your dress up, you finally took it off with no hesitation. Though you exhaled the boldness out of you, it was a relief to know there was enough of it for you to breath it in once again. Seeing the lust intensify in his orbs, you were motivated more than ever. Leaning back, your hands rested on his strong thighs. You kept your weight there, as you slowly lifted your buttocks. His shaft remained erect inside you, and you felt its length to the detail as you began to roll your hips forward in slow motion. Sinking down, your moist opening clenched, engulfed his manhood even tighter. Given the fluttering of his eyes, it was evident he savored it.

“Yes! Yes!” He breathed, holding your hips tightly whilst throwing his head back. Control took you over by the reins. “Hey!” You yelled authoritatively, “Who told you to look away, Bateman?” You inquired, as you kept rolling your hips, “Look…at…me!” You demanded. A part of you curled up with fright. But to your surprise, he seemed to enjoy it.

Feeling the rhythm within, your hands moved to your back, slowly proceeding to unhook the only article of clothing that got in the way. You licked your own lips, tossing your strapless bra away, finally being aware of your own naked frame as the cool air clashed against your bare skin. But you rather preferred his hands on them instead. Taking his beautiful hands, you had his gaze on your own whilst you guided those hands over your hips, all the way to your stomach. It clenched with sensitivity, only to have the skin grow even more receptive as his palms traveled over to your ribcage, until finally grabbing your ample breasts. Moaning dramatically with your mouth gaped open, you were the bravest with your gaze still intact in his hungry one.

“Yeah…keep your eyes on me…” you said, maintaining the rhythm of your pelvic thrusts, “…watch me…fuck you… _hard_ ” you moaned, uttering each word with a thrust. And Patrick could only agree through gritted teeth.

“Yes! Fuck yes…you are…Argh!”

Aroused, you bent down, kissing him with such force, he could not feel the strength of your tight hold on his brunette locks. You wanted more, you longed to explore this sense of control. The greed for this man intensified. You wanted him to want no one else but you. Loosening the grip from his head, your manicured hands involuntarily found themselves holding his neck. As your tongue was quite occupied in a passionate encounter to his own, the control conscious part of you wondered if your desires were heading too far. But before your hands could relax, Patrick broke away from your lips. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ stop…” he hissed, “Unless you’re thinking of going harder…” He may have sounded aggressive, yet he indirectly placed his trust in you. And you gladly accepted it. For this was what he wanted. And as it seemed, a part of you wanted it as well. And if this fantasy was what he desired for. Then you would gladly offer it to him.

Rolling your hips in a faster pace, you rode him. You rode him with all the power you possessed within you. With your hands gripping his neck, you proceeded to lightly choke him. You were at the height of your control. It felt dominating. His face may have turned slightly red, but his soft moans, his expression of pleasure was deemed worthy.

“OH YES!” He cried out breathlessly, his hands still holding onto your breasts. The way he pinched and pulled on your erect nipples, sent waves of stimulation that invited you to ride him harder.

“Yeah, baby!” You cried out, as you bucked your hips, “Yeah! Cum for me, baby….come on!”

Your words were certainly filled with arousal and encouragement. With the starving lovers moving in unison, the peak of pleasure was eventually reached. Until Patrick finally gave in, letting his release burst inside you like an explosion.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Laying on your side, you watched him with a sense of longing. Patrick kept staring at the ceiling, taking long deep breaths whilst pondering. The evening chill did not come close to either of your naked bodies, for the blood ran hot, thus they were still warm. Leaning forward, you kissed him with desperation, tasting the salty sweat on his skin as you gave a generous lick soon afterwards. You marveled at how wonderful he tasted in every way. His lips, his skin, his release and even his soul.

Turning his head, Patrick looked you dead in the eyes. You took a gander at his blank expression. You took in the emptiness that lingered behind those orbs. But even still, you did flinch to the slightest. You were not frightened. For all you wanted was to linger in that void in him, and hopefully paint something to fill that void with everything he could take in.

“Y/N…” He began softly. Attentive was all you could be. “Who are you?” His inquiry, there was not a trace of sarcasm at all. Only desperation and mad curiosity. You had to catch your breath. What exactly did he mean? Was it as profound as you imagined. Regardless, you went ahead to answer the only way you knew how.

“…Someone who’s willing to know you as a whole…” you answered, in all seriousness, “Someone’s who’s ready to take that step to see the other side, whatever it is that you might have hidden inside that was never revealed, cause it shouldn’t matter…none of it matters…” you breathed. “I…” Patrick began, with eyes furrowed, “…I thought I was going insane…” he continued, “But then it finally hit me..” He added. He inhaled deep, as if it was his very last. “I….” he paused, “I think I…” Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth with desperation. With bated breath, you waited patiently. But finally he decided to let it out:

“I think I…love…you” 

Patrick muttered, as if he had to literally give his heart away. You could sense the struggle he faced with every word he spoke. He was so broken. But that made it all so moving for you. Just when you thought the night could not have gotten stranger.

And here you were, concerned for your life if you were to be abandoned by the man you had already saved your heart for. Moving closer, you wrapped his hand around your own frame attempting a snuggle. You did not touch his watch, to his relief. With your face merely a few centimeters apart, you savored his warm breath that fell on your cheek.

“Well then…” you said, “If you call that insanity…” you continued, taking a deep breath, “Then that makes two of us…”


End file.
